


100 Miraculous Ways to Say, "I Love You."

by PrincessofHarte



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: 100 Ways to Say "I Love You" Meme, Aged-Up Character(s), Fluff, I could connect and expand on them in the future, If anyone wants me to, Multi, Prompts are not necessarily connected, Romance, Some prompts were written first on Tumblr, Updated once daily, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 22:00:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6026797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessofHarte/pseuds/PrincessofHarte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off of the "100 Ways to Say "I Love You"" meme on Tumblr. This series of drabbles will embark on the lifestyle and journeys of our favorite superheroes and their friends and family. Not all of the drabble is interconnected, but if someone would like to see what happens if it's all interconnected and expanded, then I am certain I can do that in the future. Length of the drabbles vary.</p><p>Prompt 7: "I dreamt of you last night."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "Pull over. Let me drive for a while."

For over six hours, they have been on the road. They left around 5 am, and due to passing a time boarder, it is well after noon. Marinette blinks as other cars go by, as threes blur and another bug splatters the windshield. With fingers stiff from clenching the steering wheel for too long, she fumbles for the window wipers, trying to scrape the dragonfly away from her field of vision. It only smears, turning part of the window white. Marinette sighs as they find a sign telling them they’re about to enter Lichtenstein.

“We’re almost there,” she breathes.

Adrien frowns, noticing the lines under her eyes and her frequent yawns. He asked earlier if he should drive, but she adamantly refused. Seeing her nod off at the wheel makes Adrien reconsider. “Hey, Mari?”

“Hmm?”

“Pull over. Let me drive for a while.”

“What? Are you serious? We’re almost there!”

“No, we’re not. We’re almost to Italy, yes, but we’re nowhere near Naples. Besides, you’re falling asleep.”

“Am not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Mari, just pull over, please.”

“But—”

“You’ve been awake since four this morning, and you’ve driven us all the way here. Let me drive.”

Marinette takes a moment to consider it before turning on her blinker and pulling over to the side of the road. Stepping out of the car, she stretches her legs and walks around the front. Adrien does the same, meeting her halfway with a kiss. Settling back inside, he scooches the driver’s seat back, adjusting it to his height. Marinette moves the back of her seat down, resting her feet on the dash. As soon as Adrien brings the car back into its proper lane, she falls asleep.

Adrien chuckles softly to himself, listening to the small mewling noises his wife makes when she sleeps. Sometimes, she acts more like a cat than he does, but who is he to judge. Oh, that’s right. He’s Chat Noir.

“Sweet dreams, Princess,” he whispers to her sleeping form, taking one hand off the wheel to hold hers. “We’ll be at Volpina’s soon.”


	2. "It reminded me of you."

Walking past the quaint shops of the Rue de Passy in the 16th area, Marinette pauses, finding a novelty boutique. In the window is what she’s been searching for. Without a moment to spare, she slips inside the building, leaving with a pink bag brimming with tissue paper.

_Tonight is the night,_ she thinks, shivering in excitement and fear. Jaywalking, Marinette runs into the bustling fabric shop across the street, stepping out with a parcel over her shoulder. Instead of tarrying in the midday sun, she hastens home. _Tonight is the night._

* * *

Adrien fidgets with his tie, pulling it loose from his neck and throwing it over the back of his couch. The button down is the next to go, landing on Plagg.

“Hey!” the kwami grumbles, fazing through the shirt. “Watch where you’re throwing stuff. You could’ve hurt the _cheese_.” In his tiny arms is a slice of brie, at least twice the size of Plagg’s body.

“Sorry, I’m just…distracted…” Adrien trails off, gazing out the window. “It’s just that, she said—”

“—she has something she wants to tell you,” finishes Plagg. “Yes, Adrien, I know this. I was there.”

“Oh. Right. But—”

“And even if I _wasn’t_ there, I’d still know about it _‘cause you haven’t shut up about it all day._ ”

Adrien rolls his eyes, tracking his kwami through the room. “You think I should get her something?”

“Why? Are you proposing to her?”

_“What?!”_ Adrien almost trips over his pants with the speed at which he spins to face the kwami. “Why-why-why-why would you think that?”

_“Because you love her,”_ sings Plagg, swallowing the brie.

“She’s-she’s just a friend, Plagg!”

“But you _love_ her.”

“I—”

“You love her! You love her! You love her!”

“Plagg, shut up!”

“No. You love her! You love her! You—”

“Someone is going to hear you!”

If anyone chose that moment to walk into the room, he would be surprised to find Adrien Agreste in his underwear, chasing a black blob, the two of them shouting at each other.

Adrien takes the stairs two steps at a time, jumping over the final one as he catches Plagg in his outstretched hands. Plagg’s head pops up between her fingers.

“You love her!” Plagg continues to sing.

Adrien glares, stating, “She’s my friend.”

Plagg snickers, watching his human strut about the second floor of his room, examining the books. Running a finger over the titles, Adrien pulls one from the shelf, gesturing to Plagg. “Do you think this will do?”

“I don’t really care.”

“Ugh.” Returning to the ground floor, Adrien dresses in more casual clothes and places the book in his bag.

“Oh!” the kwami voices in surprise. “Are you going as yourself today?”

“Of course not. Plagg, claws out!” The kwami groans as he is pulled into Adrien’s Miraculous, transforming the boy into Chat Noir. Taking his satchel from his desk, Chat Noir opens one of his many windows and escapes into the city.

* * *

“Ahh! Tikki, I can’t do this. I can’t do this. Nope. I’m not ready.” The girl clutches her pigtails, pacing the room.

“You don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, Marinette.” Tikki floats above Marinette’s sewing machine, following the girl with her eyes.

“But I told him I had something important to share with him.”

“Just give him the thing you found earlier.”

“But what if he doesn’t like it?”

“Marinette—”

“I can’t do this!” Marinette plops down on her chaise lounge, an arm over her eyes. Suddenly, she bolts upright. “I know! I’ll tell him I’m sick. That should do it.”

“Marinette—”

“He shouldn’t be around sick people. How else will he help Ladybug?”

“Marinette—”

“But what if he decides to stay?”

“MARINETTE!”

The girl in question jumps at the volume of her kwami’s voice, screeching, “What?!”

Tikki floats over to Marinette’s computer, dropping down on the mouse and bringing the computer out of sleep mode. The digital clock on the screen states 20:47, switching over the minute to coincide with a patter of feet on her rooftop. A hesitant moment later, three swift knocks rap on her trap door to her balcony.

_“He’s here!”_ she hisses.

_“Marinette?”_ Chat Noir asks, waiting. Instead of responding, she hides behind one of the mannequins in her room, out of sight. Tikki stares at her pointedly, gesturing to the roof. Shaking her head, Marinette shrinks back into the corner.

Floating away, Tikki mutters, “You’ll thank me later.” She flies to the mannequin on the opposite side of the room, knocking it over with a crash.

* * *

 On her balcony, Chat clutches the book in his hands. _Will she like it? I really liked this one._ He already knocked once, but she didn’t reply. _Is she not home?_ The cat looks longingly to the trap door, contemplating whether or not he should knock again. Just as he raises his hand to the glass, he hears a crash and a shriek.

_“Marinette?”_ a woman, Sabine, he recalls, calls from below, _“Are you alright?”_

_“Yes, Maman. I just knocked a mannequin over.”_

_“Be careful!”_

_“Yes, ma’am.”_

Chat spots her briefly walk beneath the skylight, picking up the discarded mannequin and whatever else fell. When she’s in the streaming moonlight, he knocks, frowning when he sees her jump. Catching her eye, he waves, backing away when she holds up a hand, letting him know she’d be up in a moment.

When she does arrive, he is floored. Before him is a girl in a beautiful blue sundress that she designed for herself. In the light, even as dark as it is, her eyes pop. The fairy lights on the deck turn on, illuminating the area only a little bit more, but that is enough for her eyes. His gaze remains focused on her face; she isn’t meeting his eyes, avoiding his every attempt to say greet her.

Clearing his throat, Chat says, “Hello.” He perches himself on the box next to her chair, legs tucked underneath him.

“H-hi.”

Her tone makes Chat’s mind freeze. _Why is she so sad?_ “Marinette, are you alright?”

“Y-yeah, yeah. I-I’m f-fine.”

Her stuttering throws him on guard; she stutters only around Adrien, not Chat Noir. _Why is she so nervous?_ Trying to diffuse the tension, Chat grabs her hand, earning a squeak, which he elects to ignore. Instead, he hands her the book, the cover slightly worn from being read so many times. “I, uh, got you the book I was telling you about.”

“You mean, the one about—”

“Yep!” Her face brightens as she turns the slightly worn copy over in her hands.

“But, I thought it went out of print!” Flipping open the cover, she pours over the pages, taking in the scent of the old book. For some reason, Chat’s heart begins to pound in his chest, boiling in his ears.

“Yeah, well, it’s my old copy.”

Her small gasp makes his heart squeeze. “I can’t possibly keep it.”

“Of course you can! Besides, it reminded me of you.”

Marinette smiles, setting the book down on the table beside her and picking up the bag by her feet, one he seemingly had not noticed. She holds it out to him, explaining as he opens it, “I found it in the shopping district. It was so cute and—”

Chat Noir’s eyes widen as he pulls out the black, porcelain cat, complete with a silver bell.

“—it reminded me of you,” she finishes.

“Marinette, I—it’s beautiful! Thank you!”

Marinette grins, finally relaxed compared to earlier in the night. For the rest of his visit, they speak with ease, discussing the minute things of television and life, content.


	3. "No, no, it's my treat."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Psst! Friendship counts as love.

Marinette stands behind the register, watching her mother and waiting for the few people to decide on what they want. A mother and her son walk in, the boy’s hair a mess but his clothes pristine. Marinette peeks out from behind the counter, watching them; it isn’t often that someone brings in a kid her age. He looks about the age of seven and is entirely unfamiliar to the girl.

“Sabine!” the woman greets, waving to her mother.

“Mrs. Agreste! How are you today?”

“Oh, I’m fine, thank you. And you?”

“I’ve been better. Tom’s sick, so it’s just Marinette and me in the shop today.”

“So this is the famous Marinette!”

Hearing her name, Marinette stops watching the boy who is hiding behind his mother’s leg, glancing up at the tall brunette.

“Hello, Marinette,” she says.

Stunned by the woman’s prettiness, Marinette meekly waves. The woman shakes her arm, nudging the boy at her leg forward. “Adrien, say, ‘Hi.’”

He doesn’t let go of his mother’s hand as he mumbles, “Hi.”

“He sure is a handsome young man,” Sabine comments, prompting the boy to blush and cling to his mother’s leg.

“He takes after his father.”

“I bet. Just wait until he gets older.”

“I don’t even want to think about that yet. He’s going to break so many hearts.”

The mothers laugh, their conversation lulling as a customer purchases a box of macaroons.

“So, what are you doing here today?” Sabine begins anew.

“Tomorrow’s Gabriel’s birthday. I was thinking of getting him some of the bear claws.”

“We have a couple different flavors. What were you thinking of?”

Marinette tunes out her mother’s words, tilting her head in observation. Peering around the bakery, she sees a platter of cookies in the window. Stepping away from Sabine’s side, Marinette runs into the kitchen and grabs her pink stepstool. Carrying it in front of her, she scurries past the adults to the window, not realizing the mothers stopped what they were discussing to watch Marinette. Sabine makes a noise of protest when she realizes what Marinette is doing, but it dies in her throat when she sees Marinette’s intentions.

Stepping down from the plastic pink stool, Marinette carries two sugar cookies and walks over to Mrs. Agreste, stopping before Adrien. She holds out a cookie, a smile wide on her face. Adrien hesitates, glancing to his mother for approval. She nods, allowing Adrien to take the cookie.

“Thank you,” he squeaks, taking a bite into it. His delight is instantaneous with his gasp in surprise. Marinette giggles, taking a bite out of her cookie.

“Marinette,” Sabine begins, but Mrs. Agreste interjects.

“Don’t worry, I’ll pay for it. How much?”

Sabine glances back at the two children, shaking her head. “The bear claws cost €28,32.”

“And the cookie?”

The Chinese woman smiles, stating, “No, no, it’s my treat. Well, it’s Marinette’s, but the thought is still there.”

“Are you certain?”

The mothers watch their children, both bubbly and neither shy.

“Of course.”

It’s not long after that that Adrien and Mrs. Agreste take their leave, promising to return one day soon. Marinette is scolded for taking a cookie and giving it away, but it’s only halfhearted. Ruffling her daughter’s hair, Sabine puts out more desserts, explaining why they were certain colors to sate the child’s curiosity.


	4. "Come here. Let me fix it."

Adrien sits on the floor in front of the couch, playing “Ladybug and Chat Noir” with his daughter, Emma. They are using the puppets that Marinette made years ago, Adrien being his alter ego and the Evillustrator.

“I’m going to take your Miraculouses!” she says, holding Rogercop in her right hand.

“We’ll never let you get away with this, right, my Lady?” His Chat Noir places a hand on her Ladybug, making Emma giggle.

“Silly Daddy,” chides Emma, her long hair falling in her face in waves. “Kitty doesn’t call Ladybug ‘my Lady.’ That’s you.”

“I suppose that’s true,” he responds, glancing at the woman lying down behind him. Her hair curls in her face as she watches them through tired eyes. “Well then, what does Chat Noir call Ladybug?”

“He calls her 'Bugaboo!'” the toddler cries, throwing her arms up in the air. This turns out to be a bad move, as it results in one of Rogercop’s arms flying off. Emma gasps, watching it land on the kitchen counter. Immediately, she begins to cry, believing it to be her fault that the old doll broke. Through hiccoughs and tears, she blubbers, “I-I’m s-s-s-sorry Dad-dy! I didn’t—I didn’t—I didn’t—I-I-I—”

“Emma, you didn’t do anything wrong!” her father interjects, setting down his dolls.

“Y-y-yes, I-I-I—”

Adrien cuts her off again, holding out his arms. “Come here. Let me fix it.”

Emma runs into his arms, crying. Rubbing her back, he picks her up and walks over to the table. From her vantage point on the couch, Marinette moves to rise, but with a shake of a head from Adrien, ceases her shift in her position.

With one hand, he holds his daughter. With the other, he grabs his wife’s sewing kit from the armoire near the door. Kissing her forehead, Adrien sets Emma on the table and kneels before her, holding Rogercop in one hand, and the arm with the sewing needle in the other. When Marinette first showed Adrien the dolls she made and the simple stitching that their arms had, he was surprised to say the least. On that day, the surprise didn’t end when another of the dolls’ arms fell off, resulting in Adrien showing Marinette how swift he could be with a needle. Adrien proves his skill again now, fascinating his daughter (she has seen her mother sew, but not her scientifically inclined father).

His distraction has caused her to stop crying, relieving the man. Handing her back the puppet and placing her on the ground, she thanks him with a kiss on his cheek before returning to her mother. Adrien and Marinette share a glance, discussing the scarily near future with their eyes.

_How are we going to handle another one?_

_It’s overwhelming._

_But amazing._

_Definitely amazing._

_We’ll manage, and we’ll be great._

_Only 7 months to go._

_I love you._

_I love you._


	5. "I'll walk you home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay in this; on Friday, I was binge-watching RWBY volume 2.

Alya flicks her gaze to the clock on her phone, eyes glazed until she realizes the exact time of nearly 8:30 at night. She’s so out of it that she doesn’t immediately recognize that they’ve been studying for over three hours. One glance at Marinette and Adrien and she knows they’re the same. Nino, however, is somehow full of energy. Being the one who pays the most attention in Miss Bustier’s class during literature, Nino is raring to go, discussing the minute details of Chaucer’s sentences and speech patterns.

“Nino,” Adrien groans, too exhausted to control his actions. The boy leans into the girl on his right, making Marinette blush furiously but remain in her hunched-over position. “Can we pick this up tomorrow?”

“What? But we haven’t even gotten to—”

“Nino.” Alya tugs on his arm, holding up his phone. In the same moment, all of their stomachs grumble. “My mom is making that ravioli you like.”

Nino’s mouth closes, weighing the benefits of getting food versus discussing literature, deciding the former is better than the latter. “Will she have the garlic bread she makes?”

“Yes.”

Pretending to consider it for a moment more, Nino says, “Deal.”

“Finally!” Marinette blurts, half asleep on her textbook. She shifts, making Adrien realize that he is still resting his head against her shoulder.

“Do you all need a ride home?” the blond asks.

“I-I’m fine. I live next door.” Marinette sheepishly points in the direction of her house while closing her Histoire textbook.

“Alya? Nino?”

“Nah. I’m good.”

“Same.”

Alya rolls her eyes at her boyfriend. Taking his hand, she leads the four of them out of the library, waving goodbye to the remaining librarian. Adrien texts his driver, waiting outside for only five minutes before his chauffer arrives. Marinette leaves soon after that, saying she’ll see everyone tomorrow. Under the school lights, only Alya and Nino remain. Holding her hand, Nino tells her, “I’ll walk you home.”


	6. "Have a good day at work."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay. This was delayed due to binge watching RWBY volume 3, then because of school.
> 
> I don't want to talk about either one.

Adrien leans against the door, pressing his lips to her forehead. He says, “Have a good day at work.”

Marinette smiles, kissing his mouth in return before kissing the baby in his hands. “Are you certain you’ll be alright with her today?”

“Of course. It’s just one day. Emma and I’ll be fine.” He flashes her a bright smile, hoisting his daughter higher on his hip. Emma is only six months old, slightly smaller than average for her age, but energetic. She babbles as she grips a strand of her father’s long hair.

“Okay,” Marinette says. She kisses her family again and heads out to her car. Adrien and Emma stay in the doorway, Adrien waving Emma’s hand when Marinette looks back. The gates close behind her as she drives off to Agreste Fashion and the remaining duo steps back inside, the door closing with a click.

“Alrighty, Emma,” Adrien mumbles, kicking out a chair from the round kitchen table and sitting in it. “What do you want to do?”

Emma watches him, her wide green eyes never leaving her face. Her right hand is shoved in her mouth, dribbles of drool dripping from the corners. In her left is the tuft of hair that escaped his ponytail. Around her fist, she gives him a gummy smile and giggles. Adrien’s heart squeezes at the noise, he pulling her closer and peppering her with kisses. He can’t help the way he feels; a long time ago, Adrien thought no one could fill his heart more than his Lady, and then he met Marinette and thought no one could top the love he felt for both of them, but then they became one person and the love filled him completely. With Emma in his life, his heart is overflowing. “I love you, Emma.”

A buzz from his phone pulls his attention away from her. It’s Marinette.

**[I made it to work.]**

**[Is everything alright at home?]**

**[I can come back if you need me to.]**

Adrien takes hold of his phone, typing his response with his left hand.

[We’re fine. We’ll visit at lunch.]

**[Are you sure?]**

[We’re purrfect, my Lady.]

**[Ma petit minou.]**

**[I have to go. Wilfried is here.]**

[Love you.]

The message sends, but she doesn’t see it. Adrien turns his gaze back to Emma, finding her face twisted into an emotion that isn’t happiness. In that moment, she begins to cry.

“Emma! What’s wrong?” He lifts up his daughter, smelling her butt. “You didn’t poop. Are you hungry?”

Adrien carries the crying toddler to the fridge, opening it with one hand and grabbing out one of the bottles Marinette left behind. He removes the bottle’s nipple, heating it up in the microwave. Making sure it is only lukewarm, he puts the nipple back on it. Emma screams as he cradles her in one arm, trying to feed her with the other. Her mouth is around her bottle for only a moment before she cries again. Her face turns red and she pulls sharply on Adrien’s hair.

Adrien changes tactics. _She’s not hungry. She didn’t poop. Maybe she needs more sleep?_ Setting the bottle down, he shifts Emma to where she would be resting on his shoulder if she wasn’t punching him with her tiny fists. He tries to bounce her, but that only made her cries warble.

“Emma, please,” Adrien tries.

“Make her _stoooop_.” Adrien searches for the voice, finding the kwami phasing out of the fridge.

“Plagg, I’m trying.”

“Just do what Marinette does.”

“It’s not working. Plagg, help me,” pleads the blond, bouncing Emma all the while. The kwami groans, floating over to the baby. Adrien stops bouncing her, but the screams don’t stop. Staring at Adrien, Plagg sits down on Emma’s head. Somehow, this small interaction makes Emma still, the baby trying to search for what is on her. When she sees it is Plagg, her crying grows to its previous crescendo. “Plagg!”

“What? I tried! Tikki is better at this than I am!”

As Adrien is about to throw back a retort, sunlight streaming in from the window catches on his ring. Adrien closes his mouth, setting Emma back in her carrier. Certain she wouldn’t hurt herself, Adrien called, “Plagg! Claws out!”

“How will this help anything?!” Plagg questions as he is sucked into the Cat Miraculous. Green light fills the room while Adrien’s hair grows wild, only tamed through the ponytail on his head, but barely so. Chat Noir’s bell tings as his transformation completes. His daughter stares with her wide eyes, rimmed red from her crying. She kicks her feet, reaching a hand out for him. Mindful of his claws, Chat Noir lifts Emma out of his carrier, holding her at eye level. It is not often that Emma has seen Adrien as Chat Noir. More often than not, she has seen Marinette as Ladybug. She has grown used to the fact that her mother and Ladybug are one and the same. Adrien can count the number of times on his hands how many times Emma has been in the arms of Chat Noir, the number far less for the times where she is awake.

She reaches for his hair, making a noise. Chat Noir obliges, feeling Emma’s grubby hands rub her spit into his hair. _She smells like me,_ he notes. _Me and milk._ He freezes when one of her hands grabs onto his ears, her excited shrieking stunning him with pain. She tugs on them, the movement sending pressure—comforting pressure that he thought only Marinette knew how to make him feel on purpose—to his head. Chat Noir rubs his head on his daughter’s vulnerable stomach, claiming her as his. She giggles as his hair brushes her face, her feet kicking his bell. When she hears it jingle, she laughs even more, kicking her feet all the while.

Chat Noir pulls her away, wincing as some of his hair came out of his head in her fists. She gurgles as she stares at him, smiling a drooling smile. “Will you go to sleep now, Emma?”

She holds out her hands, opening and closing them. He flashes her a cheeky grin, which she returns by revealing her gums and squealing. The superhero grabs a towel from the counter, setting it on his shoulder before holding her to it. Emma’s head turns towards her father. She grabs another fistful of his ponytail. In return, he lifts her, bouncing her and patting her on the back. The movement (and eventual lack of gas and spit) relaxes her, making her fall into a daze. She finally falls asleep.

Releasing his transformation, Adrien almost moves Emma. He doesn’t due to the fact that his hair is still in her fist. He rolls his eyes, glancing at the time. There is no number on the clock above the stove, just the word **_LATE_**. Eyes widening, he gestures to Plagg to get into Emma’s baby bag, slips on his shoes, and is out the door, hurrying to his wife for lunch.


	7. "I dreamt of you last night."

I dreamt about you last night, my lady. You cut your hair. You were in our kitchen, our daughter on the counter in front of you, eating cookie dough. I walked up behind you. Our daughter saw me first and she started to laugh. Cookie dough was all over her face and hair. I picked her up, and she smeared more of it on my face. You laughed. You were so happy. And then I woke up.

Marinette, it was never my intention to find out your identity this way. I didn’t mean to know, to remember. I’m sorry. I don’t know why you ran after we defeated that akuma and I told you. I don’t know if it’s some fear over me knowing or some inferiority complex you have, but I know you’re better than that. You’re amazing, Marinette. You’re so full of confidence and you’re so happy and _beautiful_. I didn’t mean to break your trust. If I could, I would forget so that you could tell me in your own time. Marinette, my lady, I love you. I want to experience this with you. Please, let me in.

 

* * *

 

“Her name was Emma,” I start, kicking my feet out over the edge of the Eiffel Tower. “She had beautiful blue eyes and short black hair. It was up in a little ponytail, but tufts were sticking out everywhere. She looked a lot like you.” Marinette sits next to me. There’s a space between us. Before, I would’ve told her this while leaning against her. Now, I can’t even reach her. She’s too far away. “I don’t know why you put her on the counter or why you let her play with cookie dough, but you two were both happy.”

“Chaton…” Marinette hesitates.

“We were much older. You cut your hair. You were wearing different clothes too. They were made from a better quality fabric. You reached your dream of becoming a designer. I was there too. We were all happy.” I feel her move closer, but she still hesitates. “Marinette, why can’t I tell you who I am?”

She breathes, considering. The look in her eyes is the same look she had when I gave her that umbrella in September. _My lady, please. It_ hurts _keeping this from you._

“I…I want to, to know, I mean. In my heart, I want to, but Tikki told me I’m not supposed to know, that you were never supposed to find out who I am.” She folds her hands in her lap and looks away. “I’ve wanted to tell you who I am for years, and now you know.” Her voice warbles. “I wanted to wait until Tikki said it was safe.”

“Marinette…” She turns away.

“You know who I am. How many other people know who I am? Do my parents know? They were caught up in that akuma’s dreams too. What if Hawk Moth saw those dreams? What if he knows?” Her words grow quiet and she curls in on herself, crying. “What will I do now?”

I reach over and pull her against me. She hugs me and cries into my shoulder. “We’ll get through this together, my lady. We’re Ladybug and Chat Noir. We’re always together. Nothing can break us apart.”

Marinette hums, her breathing evening. I put an arm under her legs and around her back. “I’ll get you home, Bug.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've just been in a funk about writing recently.
> 
> Also recently, there was a blackout in the Miraculous Ladybug fandom. Don't be an idiot and steal peoples' creations. Don't steal fanart or fanfics. Don't do it. If you do, you will be found and your account on whatever website you used will be taken down. To the creators who have had their work stolen, you're not alone. And, it's alright if you no longer want to create for this fandom. That's okay. Your work doesn't deserve to be seen by people who steal. You're awesome. Thieves aren't.


	8. "I saved a piece for you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post this yesterday. Oh, well. This is technically chapter 9, but I've already had it written, so I'm releasing it first. The chapters before this one are still in the process of being written. Everything should be up to date by Sunday, hopefully. (I won't be home, so we'll see how this goes.)

Adrien hears a clatter on the roof, smiling as he abandons the food baking in the oven. He rushes to their bedroom and opens the window, holding his arms out for her. Not a moment later, Ladybug swings into the room and detransforms, exhausted.

Breathing heavily, she greets, “Hey.”

Adrien carries her to their bed, responding with a kiss. She struggles as he pulls the covers around her.

“Noooo.”

“Princess, you need to sleep.”

She groans in response, trying to escape his clutches.

“You’re allowed to sleep, you know. You don’t have to be Ladybug all the time.”

“But I need to,” she mumbles, settling down.

“I’ll wake you when dinner’s ready.”

“Mmph.” Adrien retreats from the room and closes the door, Tikki resting on his head. He sets the kwami on the kitchen counter and rifles through the cabinets for the cookies, handing her an entire container. Even though he’s known about Tikki for almost two years now, he hasn’t set down a specific pattern for her on how much she eats. Some days, she hardly touches one kind of cookie. Other days, she eats an entire container. The only thing he knows for certain is that chocolate chip are her favorite, but she hasn’t been as appetized to eat them lately.

It’s another thirty minutes before the quiche leaves the oven and the kwamis are back to normal. Adrien leaves it to cool on the counter, Tikki reassuring that Plagg wouldn’t eat it all before he comes back. Sneaking off to their bedroom, Adrien cracks open the door, allowing the smell of cheese to permeate into the room and the light to rest on her head. She doesn’t stir as he enters.

“Mari,” he whispers in her ear. “Princess. Buginette.” She groans, reaching an arm out for his pillow on the other side and throwing it at him. He catches it, giving her a peck on the forehead. “Dinner’s ready.”

She makes another noise, trying to burrow her way back into the sheets, but he knows that she won’t be able to go back to sleep. Chuckling softly, he leaves the room; she’d wake up on her own time.

He’s right too. It takes about ten minutes, but he can hear the bathroom door creak open and the toilet flush after she finishes. When she walks into the dining room, he doesn’t look up, shooing Plagg away from the quiche he made for Marinette, stating, “I saved a piece for you.”

She’s silent, and a glance up tells him why; her hair is disheveled, she’s in his shirt, and in her hands is a pink stick.

_“Adrien.”_


End file.
